About Last Night...

by Michele Dunaway

  “Look, this isn’t a good time. I’ve got to clean up this mess and call Lindy and…” Shane’s voice drifted off as he realized Grandpa Joe was staring at him. “What?”

  “Is that a hickey on your neck?”

  Shane rubbed at the spot he’d seen in the mirror earlier. It was a hickey? He hadn’t had one of those since ninth grade. And if he had a hickey, who had he been with?

  “Shane, look, I know your father made some mistakes with you. He and your mother either spoiled you rotten or put you out of their minds and let overindulgent nannies raise you while they went out and saved the world. Perhaps I was wrong to not have stepped in earlier and done something about it when you were younger. But you’re twenty-five now. You need to accept your responsibilities to this family instead of languishing like some pathetic playboy with no purpose. If you won’t think of yourself, at least think of Lindy.”

  Shane bristled. “Leave Lindy out of this.”

  “No, I won’t. The girl has raw business talent. She’s wasted working for you. What do you do that requires a PA? Does she add legitimacy or something to your endeavors?”

  “I do real work. My foundation.”

  “Yes, your foundation. The one redeeming feature you have. Your foundation is quite generous and you run it well. But that and multiplying your trust fund are not real work.” Grandpa Joe paused. “And Lindy is wasted simply stuffing envelopes and getting rid of your exes. Maybe I should steal her away from you.”

  “Don’t you dare go near Lindy. Besides, taking her won’t get what you want. I won’t come work for you.”

  Grandpa Joe shook his head. “You know I love you, grandson, but it’s not all about you. You’ve become an empty man, Shane. You skate by because you won’t risk. You choose not to face your demons. I can only hope you wake up and realize that fact before it’s too late to see what’s in front of you. All good things are worth risk. That being said, I’ll see you at Easter dinner. Your grandmother would love it if you brought Lindy. I’ll see both of you tomorrow.” And with that Grandpa Joe stepped over some empty beer bottles and left.

  Shane took a long drink of water. He hated being out of control, and Grandpa Joe’s visit had left him reeling. Shane wasn’t afraid of risk. He just had his reasons for not working at the family company, that was all. Besides, he’d carved out a good life for himself. His stubbornness had nothing to do with growing up with minister parents who were always promoting Christianity, saving lost souls and leaving their son in the capable hands of nannies. He’d turned out fine. He just didn’t fit the mold his family created for him.

  Enough was enough, Lindy would always tell him. Good old Lindy. She was always there for him, and like always, Shane knew he’d get over this latest dramatic family setback and letdown.

  Shane just wished he could remember what had happened. Throwing pity parties wasn’t his style. Not only that, but he never drank much, maybe one drink now and then. Last night had been an exception.

  He pushed a wayward strand of hair out of his face. Hopefully he hadn’t done anything that would tarnish the family name further or he’d be sure to hear about that.

  Maybe Lindy would know what he’d done, and who besides Marci and Dan had been at the party. Good old Lindy. She was worth more than he paid her. Sure, he knew what everyone whispered. Just as his grandfather had said earlier, everyone agreed. Everyone said he really didn’t need a personal assistant; after all, all he truly did was day-trade and run the Shane Jacobsen Foundation that donated to child-abuse agencies. But Lindy was indispensable, as she’d proved over and over again. And right now he needed her. That thought cheered him up. She’d never let him down before, and he knew she wouldn’t now. All he had to do was ask and she’d make it her job to find out what happened at his party.

  Thankfully the cordless phone was still in its place on the end table. Shane picked it up and pushed a button, the only one besides the pizza place that got any use from the phone’s speed dial feature.

  “Hello!”

  “Lindy! It’s me! Can you—” he began.

  “I’m sorry, but I’m not available to take your call right now. Please—”

  Shane fumed through the rest of her voice mail’s message. Odd. Where was Lindy? Why wasn’t she answering her cell phone? Even in the dead of night she always answered her cell phone. He tried to remember her pager number as the voice mail beeped the record prompt at him.

  “Lindy? Damn it, if you’re there call me. I need to ask you about last night. Do you have any clue what happened to me? Except for this pounding headache, I don’t remember a darn thing.”

  AT SIX-THIRTY LINDY TOSSED aside the St. Louis Post-Dispatch. The Sunday employment section, available early Saturday afternoon, had held slim pickings. The few jobs that had looked the slightest bit interesting all had a salary far below what Shane paid her. Unless she wanted to take a major pay cut, for a while she was stuck with him.

  She glanced at her cell phone. The words announced three missed calls and two new voice-mail messages. “Persistent, isn’t he?” She picked up the phone and checked the caller ID display. The first number with multiple calling times was, as she’d thought, Shane’s. The second read J. Jacobsen. She frowned. Curious, Lindy dialed her voice mail.

  “Lindy, it’s Shane. Where are you? I’ve been calling you all day. I’m starting to get really worried. Call me.”

  Lindy hit seven-seven, erasing his newest message before his warm baritone washed over her and melted her resolve. As soon as the right job came along, she had to leave him.

  The next message was from Shane’s grandfather. “Lindy? This is Joe Jacobsen. Would it be possible for you to come to my office Monday at nine? I have a few matters I’d like to discuss with you professionally, and Easter dinner is not the time or place. You do know you’re invited? Shane did tell you, right? See you tomorrow and then on Monday.”

  Lindy erased that message, reached for her day planner and penciled in 9:00 a.m. Joe Jacobsen. She wasn’t sure what Shane’s grandfather wanted with her on Monday, but in the three years she’d been working for Shane she’d learned to jump when Grandpa Joe said jump. Founder of Jacobsen Enterprises, one of the largest companies in St. Louis, Joe Jacobsen was a self-made man along the lines of Andrew Carnegie. Even though Joe was as kindhearted as a teddy bear, in business and in life he always got what he wanted. As for Easter dinner, she could safely pass on that.

  A knock sounded at her door, distracting her from the pressing problem of Shane’s faulty memory and the fact that eventually she’d have to call him back. Her pizza had finally arrived. Lindy rose to her feet, glad that she’d taken a shower after her roommate Tina had left. There had been a lecture—all about Shane’s shortcomings—that Lindy hadn’t needed. She rubbed her head one more time. Her headache had almost totally disappeared, and now with food she’d hopefully finally feel better and find a solution to her current problem.

  Besides, after all, she wasn’t sure if she was happy, sad or just plain outright furious. Shane Jacobsen had no idea what had happened to him. The best lovemaking of her life and he didn’t remember it. Of course, she’d spent the whole drive home worried about what to say to him. That problem was solved—he didn’t remember anything.

  But darn him! He wasn’t supposed to have blacked out! To be unmemorable, to have been forgotten…She grabbed her checkbook, headed for the door, and pulled it open. Unfortunately, the pizza deliveryman didn’t stand on the threshold.

  “Shane!”

  “There you are!” Shane rushed in and, before Lindy could move, he enveloped her in a gigantic bear hug. His damp hair fell into his face and an immediate warmth from his body traveled to hers. Her knees wobbled and Shane steadied her before leaning back so that he could see her face. “Lindy, you’ve had me worried sick. I’ve been calling you for hours. Why haven’t you been answering? You are okay, aren’t you?”

  Lindy blinked, trying to find focus. Ah, to be in his strong arms again—her tr
aitorous body awakened once more. Her breasts thrust forward as if seeking him, and heat began to pool.

  No! Lindy yanked her mind back into full control and drew back a step, away from Shane. Immediate welcome coolness descended as she detached herself from Shane’s embrace. Her knees wobbled as she turned her back to him. Control. She needed control. She concentrated on making her step steady as she walked toward the couch. Thankfully he didn’t seem to notice.

  “Why didn’t you call me back?”

  “I was taking a nap.” Lindy sat down, her legs more secure against the solid green cushions. Then she made the mistake of looking up at him.

  Despite looking vexed, to her Shane had never seemed more beautiful. His jeans molded to his athletic legs, and his polo shirt revealed those wonderful arms that had just again held her tight to his chest. And those blue eyes that had held such promise last night right now revealed endless concern and care that was just for her.

  How long had she waited for him look at her this way? As if he felt something for her?

  Again she wanted to drown in him, to feel him against her, to let the illusions wash over her. She could still almost feel the way his fingers had stroked her skin and…

  “Lindy, you never nap.”

  She blinked, fantasy thankfully shattered with his words. “There’s always a first time. That is okay, isn’t it? I was tired so I turned off the phone and took a nap.”

  Shane’s full lips turned downward and Lindy fought off a sudden urge and desire to kiss away his frown. “I’m being a cad,” Shane announced. “Are you sick? Can I get you anything? A pillow? Aspirin? What can I do to help?”

  Lindy sighed. How could she get riled up at him? He’d been so worried about her not calling him back that he’d shown up on her doorstep. At moments like this Shane was at his best. Shane was not all his playboy image portrayed. After working with Shane for three years, Lindy knew a Shane few others did. She’d seen him when he’d made a dying child’s wish come true; she’d seen him care about situations others had washed their hands of. She’d seen him sit by his friend Dan’s hospital bed during Dan’s illness. And here he was, showing up because he’d been worried about her. How could she even think of leaving him?

  Her mind wrestled with her heart as a desperate resolve filled her. She fisted her hands together. For her own long-term sanity and future she had to try. She could not let herself be sucked into the easy charm that was—and always would be—Shane Jacobsen. She was his personal assistant. That’s all she’d ever be, and it was a cruel illusion to pretend otherwise, to dream he might one day fall in love with her.

  Deliberately she made her voice cold. “Thanks for being worried about me. But besides that, why are you here? Is there something you needed?”

  “Water would be good,” Shane said, totally misinterpreting her chilly undertone. He gave her a smile that could have kept the winter frost from harming the spring tulips. Part of her burned, and she struggled for self-control.

  “I’ll get you some.” Grateful for the diversion, Lindy stood, sidestepped Shane, and moved into the kitchen. Once in the safety of the small, enclosed space, she gripped the edge of the counter and gave herself a mental pep talk. She could do this. In Shane’s mind nothing had changed between them. He didn’t remember last night. That was a good thing. All the aces were in her hand. She could play them any way she wished.

  Shane was still standing when she left the kitchen. She handed him the tall glass of ice water, and as their fingers touched a raw electric spark shot through her, the same type of shock that had jolted through her last night. Last night she rationalized her reaction to Shane’s touch as being from drinking alcohol. No such excuse existed now. She jumped back and stared at Shane.

  “Static,” he said.

  “Yes,” Lindy replied.

  As he finished his sip of water she could almost see the clear liquid slide down his throat, and she swallowed, too. This man was pure charisma. She just needed to think of him clinically now. That was all.

  “Thanks,” Shane said as he sat down on the sofa. “I was worried because you always call me back.”

  He took another long drink before placing the glass on a woven coaster that Tina had brought back from one of her trips to London. “I really need to talk to you. I have no memory of last night. The last thing I remember is calling you. I did call you, didn’t I?”

  “You did.” Lindy could admit that safely. Her legs suddenly unsteady again, she sat down in a chair located perpendicular to the sofa where Shane sat.

  “At least I remember that much.” Shane raked a hand through his now dry hair. “I must have really done a good one last night. Look at this. My grandfather stopped by this afternoon and said I have a hickey.” He moved aside the shirt’s collar and showed Lindy the spot on his neck. “Boy, did I get a lecture.”

  Lindy’s hand flew up to cover her open mouth, and for a brief, imperceptible moment she closed her eyes. During their passion, she’d left a mark on his neck. He’d been joined with her, and as he’d swept her along to another crest she’d reached up to kiss him, and…

  Her eyes flew open and she jerked her telltale hand away from her mouth and put it in her lap. She’d been so carried away that she hadn’t stopped kissing him. The evidence was right there in front of her like a badge of honor on Shane’s neck. Horrified at what she’d done, she needed all her mettle to steel her face into neutral.

  Shane leaned forward and took Lindy’s hand in his. The heat from his touch seared her, and she shifted uncomfortably as her body went into overdrive, once again desiring what it had enjoyed a little more than twelve hours earlier. Would she ever stop wanting him, especially now, after she’d had him? She had to try. She yanked her hand from his.

  Shane frowned. “Lindy, how did I get this? I remember a redhead, but I know I didn’t do anything with her. But if I have this, then who was I with?”

  Lindy’s heart constricted. At that moment, he looked so vulnerable. But she knew she couldn’t tell him the truth. How could she just say, “Shane, you slept with me. I’m the one you don’t remember. The one that left that mark on your neck.”

  Yeah, right. He always saw her as good old Lindy. His PA. A pal. And what type of relationship would she have with Shane if he knew? Not the one she wanted. Men like Shane Jacobsen didn’t marry their PAs. Men like Shane didn’t even know what love was. They thought it was an illusion, a holy grail. No, best he never know the truth.

  She gave Shane a narrow look, and he turned his big blue puppy-dog eyes on her. “Let me guess. You want me to find out for you.”

  “Yes,” Shane said. “It’ll look awkward if I ask around. No one at the party needs to know I can’t remember. And if anyone can find out discreetly, you can. Please do me this favor.”

  All afternoon, Lindy had replayed every detail of the previous night at least a million times. Now she mentally ran through the list of party guests again. No one had seen her get together with Shane.

  She took a deep breath, steadying herself for the task ahead, the one that she had to do whether she liked it or not. “No,” Lindy said.

  “What?” Shane’s head rebounded and the W-shaped furrow that appeared between his eyes showed his displeasure.

  “No,” Lindy repeated. She drew another steadying breath. “Shane, I’m sorry, but this is not in my job description.”

  His look of disbelief was Cary Grant classic. “You’re my personal assistant and you’re saying no? You’ve always handled my personal business before. Isn’t this personal business?”

  “No. It’s purely personal, not business. We may have developed a friendship over the years we’ve worked together, but you’re my boss, Shane. It’s time each of us remembered that.”

  “You’ve done it before, Lindy. Remember when you got rid of Janine for me? She was almost a stalker until you took care of her.”

  “Perhaps, but she was interfering with business by showing up at the pool house.”


  “And how is this different from then?”

  “It just is. Look at you. You don’t even know what happened to you. That’s not my job, Shane, it’s yours no matter how awkward. From this point forward I’m not going to be involved in your personal life. Period.”

  Disappointment etched his beautiful features, and at that moment Lindy knew she’d spoiled Shane. Long before last night she’d crossed the line between professional and personal. She’d become his confidant, his problem-solver and his sounding board.

  But no more. Not after last night. She had to redraw the line. She was tired of the one-way relationship. She gave; he took. And since a two-way relationship was just a pipe dream, it was best if she drew the line in the sand and put their relationship purely on a business level once and for all until she found another job.

  Nerves buzzing, Lindy took another deep breath and attempted to control her inner shaking. “And while we’re at it, Shane, you need to realize that I’m not planning on being with you forever. I’ve got career aspirations. I want to use my degree, not just schedule your dates and buy them roses or a trinket when you’re bored and toss them aside.”

  “You can’t be serious.” Shane’s jaw dropped open, his look aghast. “You’re the best PA I’ve ever had. You can’t leave me. I need you.”

  Shane needed her. Lindy wanted to cry at that irony. How she wished this was true. She’d taken Psychology 101 in college. Shane really could do all the work for his foundation himself. No, Shane craved attention, not her. Because of his family situation, he’d grown up wanting someone to dote on him, the way she’d been doing the past three years as his personal assistant. That couldn’t be her role any longer. Not after last night.

  Lindy forced herself to look at Shane. “I’m the only PA you’ve ever had and I am serious. You need to handle your personal affairs, even if you don’t remember them.”

  The jaw she’d planted kisses all over dropped open again. “You really know how to kick a guy when he’s down.” He winced, as if a headache had returned. “Happy birthday, Shane. Find out yourself who you did last night. By the way, I’m leaving.”